21 comments/ 27098 views/ 1 favorites The Browning of America By: SikFuk (Jenny Jackson's 2008 Earth Day entry "The Greening of America" inspired this tale. I would like to thank her for encouraging me to write this.) (DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional parody. It is not a true story, nor is it approved of by the celebrities or corporate entities named in the story. No harm is intended toward the celebrities or corporate entities mentioned in this story. Furthermore, there is no bestiality in this story, nor are there any illegal actions involving humans and aquatic life.) FOREWORD It's the year 2019. Sarah Palin is in her second term as President of the USA. She has privatized all public services. National parks are now funded by corporate sponsors. Mount Rushmore has been renamed Big Five Climbing Park. Yellowstone Park is now called Yamaha ATV Land. Sequoia National Park is known as Weyerhaeuser Tree Museum, housing the last seven remaining redwoods in all of North America. Alaskan oil has been flooding the market for years, creating a glut of cheap gas. The resulting air pollution is toxic. Even healthy adults require oxy-packs to avoid respiratory distress. The ozone layer has been depleted to the point that prolonged exposure to sunlight causes radiation burns. The Environmental Protection Agency is now a Right Wing think tank headed by Bill O'Reilly. Expanding on his success with the No Spin Zone, he has introduced clever ad campaigns to reframe the discussion on the environment. His latest slogan: "Dial 1-800-TERRORISM to report environmental communists" has resulted in the imprisonment of thousands of subversive tree-planting extremists and evil-doing home-gardeners surreptitiously wasting water on such things as tomato plants and cantaloupe vines. There have been grumblings from the left, but they go unheard, since the internet is now regulated by Anne Coulter, head of the FCC. The mainstream media now consists of nothing but Fox News affiliates presenting "sanitized" news suitable for the American public. This is the world of Penny and Frank, who are visiting Capitol One Cliffs - formerly the Grand Canyon - for the first time. ***** Frank flashed his credit chip at the automated dispenser. After a brisk humming noise, two fresh oxy-pack canisters clunked out of the chute. "Can you believe how much they're charging for air these days?" Penny whined, "Lets not start," Frank sighed, flashing his wife a pleading look. On the one hand, being married to a bleeding heart liberal was sweet and comforting, on the other, it could be incredibly annoying. How many times did he have to point out that God gave us natural resources for the benefit of all mankind, not just members of the Sierra Club? "Sorry Honey," she said, turning her back so he could heft the heavy canister onto her shoulders. Frank smiled, looking at his wife's trim physic. Perhaps her daily regimen of vitamins and juices and whole grains really was beneficial to her health, in spite of the common wisdom that advocated more efficient processed foods and protein-optimized beverages. She was in excellent shape for a woman of 30, especially in contrast to the rest of society, who's average weight had ballooned by forty pounds since the year 2000. "I've always wanted to hike the Grand Canyon," she said as Frank bypassed her air filtration system with the certified air in the new canister. "I think the trip will be bearable, now that there are seven Starbucks between here and the bottom." "I think it would have been more fun before Starbucks got here," Penny frowned, adjusting the straps on her breathing apparatus. "Really Penny, you need to think of the needs of the average American. The new escalator, the mall at the bottom of the canyon, the surround-sound disco, it's what the people want. We are the most technologically advanced nation on earth. Why shouldn't we take advantage of our expertise?" Penny scrunched up her nose at the smell of the Exxon fresh air coursing through her breathing apparatus, which had a decidedly unfresh odor to it. 'Because it's ruining the planet?" she answered patiently. "Being in the out-of-doors used to be a carbon-neutral experience. Now, it's all about energy consumption. I mean, look around. They're pumping dye into the atmosphere to turn it blue, they're manufacturing composite trees and simulated wildlife robots. Where's the integrity in that? "Honey," Frank chuckled, hooking his arm around her waist, "the free market is never wrong, so just get over it." They ambled off towards the trail head, marveling at the expansive view. Although the smog was so thick it was impossible to see across the canyon, the Capitol One engineers had managed to set up a projection system, beaming the image of the far side of the canyon into the smog cloud, creating a very realistic impression that you actually could see across the canyon. Rounding the corner of the McDonalds, they stopped in their tracks, staring at the long line stacking up at the top of the escalator. "Jesus," Penny said to no one in particular, "if they're going to close the trails and make us use their brand new 'pedestrian facilitation system,' they could at least build it big enough to handle the traffic." Suddenly, a burly Halliburton goon was beside them, balancing noiselessly on his metallic brown Segway scooter. "You two. This way," he grunted in his bored monotone. "Is there a problem officer?" Frank asked politely. He knew better than to hassle a member of the Halliburton security force. "Just a random search sir." Frank's heart sank. Ever since the private sector had taken over security in the United States, accountability had gone out the window. Bored Halliburton employees could snatch anyone off the street for a random search. The fact that the only domestic acts of terrorism since 9/11 had been perpetrated by aging hippies and the occasional overweight philosophy major did not deter the Halliburton goons from choosing the hottest chicks as their targets. Not only that, but under the guise of anti-sex discrimination, random strip searches were no longer segregated by gender. His wife Penny had been strip searched at least a half a dozen times, and in only one case was there a woman present for the body cavity exam. The rest of the time it was all men, laughing and elbowing each other in the ribs and taking video with their cell phones. Frank and Penny trudged obediently behind the security guy's Segway, feeling a combination of embarrassment and trepidation. The fact that none of the tourists even noticed their march of shame made it all the more unnerving. Sure, Frank supported the government, but this was the first time the government had actually hauled him in for no apparent reason, and it was a sickening feeling. After a short walk, a green inflatable quonset hut loomed before them like a giant barrel cactus from a Pixar animation. The security guy led them into a small reception area outfitted with a metal detector, a combo x-ray/body mass/neuron scanner, and several other exotic looking instruments. "Hello there," a portly, potato-faced woman sneered from behind her metal desk. "This is a random search. You've done nothing wrong." As she talked, she typed noiselessly into her cushion-keyboard. "The random search will take about four hours to process. They're running behind because of a glitch in the latest batch of virtual paper. You know how that goes." Frank had to laugh to himself. Even though he believed in technology with all his heart, there had been batch after batch of virtual paper that simply wouldn't hold an image. Ever since the Buy American doctrin was reintroduced after the Bush economic collapse, quality had gone out the window - not that anyone knew about it. Information like that never made the news. It was strictly word of mouth, which turned it into urban legend, a convenient way to discount the truth. "Now," the lady continued, "if you'd like to avoid the four hour wait, we have a product testing session running right now. If you decide to participate, we can have you out of here in an hour and ten minutes." "Product testing?" Frank asked, always interested in the latest new gadget. "What kind of product?" "It's lifestyle enhancement equipment," the lady replied, with a hint of a smile creeping onto her puffy face. "Could you be more specific?" Penny scowled. "We've already tried the negative gravity bed, and the Guitar Hero live band hologram. We're really not looking for that type of lifestyle enhancement." "It's a study involving virtual reality and sexual response. You either sign here and move on to the testing pod, or you decline and go wait in the random search line." "Well..." Frank opined, intrigued by the idea. Not wanting to appear over-enthusiastic, he gave his wife a skeptical glance. "Come on honey," Penny whined, cuddling up to his side. "It's only an hour. We can either do the product testing and let them watch us get our rocks off, or we could go stand in line for four hours for a body cavity search, which would be basically the same thing, but less fun." Frank smiled. "I suppose, if you look at it that way..." Penny turned to the receptionist. "Will there be cameras rolling while we're doing the sex part? I really don't want this to end up on YouTube. My husband and I are teachers, and a YouTube sex video could get us both fired." The desk lady gave her an annoyed scowl. "This is a private study ma'am. Doctor-patient confidentiality is observed. Would you like to validate here?" "I guess so," Penny shrugged, pulling her credit chip out of her pocket. Frank did the same, trying to hide that fact that his hand was shaking when he scanned the chip. The thought of having sex in front of a bunch of researchers was intimidating, but also exciting, in a perverse sort of way After getting both validations, the desk lady looked at them sternly. "The confidentiality agreement stipulates that if you reveal any information about this test, you will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Understood?" "Got it, loud and clear," Frank replied, the pang in the pit of his stomach turning into a nagging ache. On the one hand, he trusted the government one-hundred percent. On the other, the government he so trusted had just tossed him a giant curve ball, and he wasn't sure how to handle it. "You cool honey?" Penny asked, squeezing his hand. It always amazed him the way his wife could pick up on his moods instantly. "Yeah Baby. Now I am." He gave her a hug and then they were directed down a long hall where a paunchy young man met them at yet another reception area. "Penny and Frank, is it?" "That's us." "The product testing involves a virtual reality simulator. You will disrobe and have simulated sex with various VR partners. You'll each need an attendant to guide you through the testing procedure. The attendant will be with you at all times. You may choose either male or female, whichever would make you the most comfortable." The paunchy guy looked over his shoulder as five tanned twenty-something assistants casually strolled into view. They all looked like they had just returned from a Hollywood casting call, with their Colgate smiles and their perfectly toned hard bodies. The women were wearing electric blue skin-tight one piece outfits with tank-style tops, the men in similar outfits but with short sleeves. Instantly, Frank spotted a six foot blonde chick with piercing blue eyes. "Well," Penny sighed, glancing at the lineup, "I guess I'll take the hippie dude." She turned to Frank. "You're okay with that, right?" "Of course darling, as long as you're okay with me choosing the blonde amazon woman." "I'm jealous," Penny pouted, and then she gave him a quick hug. "Where do we go now?" The paunchy guy pointed at a stainless steel door. "Penny, you go with Connor, the 'hippie dude,' as you refer to him. Frank, Erika will take you to your testing pod." "We're not doing this together?" Frank blurted, the reality of the situation suddenly sinking in. "No, you'll be in separate pods, but you'll be testing simultaneously, and you'll both be finished at the same time." Suddenly stricken with second thoughts, Frank reached for his wife, but she was already strolling down the hall. "Bye Honey," she said, waving as Connor lead her away. Frank's heart sank, imagining his sweet wife naked in front of Connor and a gaggle of sex researchers. But how many times had she already been naked for the Halliburtion strip searches? Six? Seven? She always got through it, and they would get through this too. "Come along Frank," Erika said, a hint of a Scandinavian accent giving her words a musical lilt. He followed her, not so much because he trusted her, but because he had no choice. As she led him down the corridor, he had to admit she had a great ass, sort of a combination of a Valentine's Day heart and a pair of volleyballs. "I like your outfit," he said, watching the jiggle of her shapely ass. "Most men do," she said, looking straight ahead. They reached another door and went inside. The space appeared to be a small locker room, like what you might have found at what they used to call a golf course, before water rationing turned them all into dusty ATV parks. "There's the shower," Erika intoned, as if on automatic pilot. "You have four minutes. There will be a one-minute warning before the water shuts off. When the shower stops, I will exfoliate your pubic area. Here's a robe. Put your clothes in this hamper." She sat down at a small desk and started tapping softly on a touch screen. "Exfoliate?" Frank gasped. "Nobody said anything about exfoliating." "It's in the release documents," she sighed, looked up from her task. "Our clients have been very receptive to exfoliation, especially when they return home and experience the enhanced sensitivity with their partners. Those of us who have chosen permanent exfoliation have found it to be a very practical choice. We have a special discount coupon available for permanent exfoliation, if you decide to choose that option at a later date." "So," Frank said, eyeing Erika as he pulled his shoes off, "how long have you been exfoliated?" "Since puberty," she said in a bored monotone. "In Sweden, exfoliation is a symbol of national pride. We have the cleanest air and water on earth, and we honor that tradition by keeping our pubic areas clean-shaven. We also have coed saunas, nude tanning parks, and other clothing-optional recreation opportunities where the clean-shaven look enhances the esthetic of the experience." "You have tanning parks? What do you do about the radiation?" "Oh, the tanning parks are under inflatable bubbles, much like the structure we're in right now. They're quite pleasant. I'm returning to Sweden next year, so if you and your wife are ever visiting our country, I would be glad to accompany you to a tanning park, or a coed sauna, or wherever you would like to go. The experience we're about to share today will be a life-changing event for you and Penny, and I suspect you and I will be lifelong friends, regardless of whether or not we ever see each other again." "Cool," Frank grinned, feeling his cock getting heavier at the thought of Erika's bald, tan pussy. By the time he was naked, he was half-hard, but Erika never even looked up from her touch screen. He showered quickly, practically jumping out of his skin when a women's sultry voice intoned "one minute" through the intercom. Thinking about the impending exfoliation procedure had turned his half-hard cock into a certified hard-on, which was a little disconcerting. When the water shut off and he pulled the shower curtain open, all he could do was grin like an idiot as Erika pulled up a stool and sat down in front of him. "Sorry about my, uh... guy here," Frank stammered. "He can be a little over-eager sometimes." "No problem Frank. Approximately eighty-two percent of our clients experience arousal during the exfoliation process. Arousal is helpful, in that it makes the area more accessible. If you feel the need to ejaculate, there is a cup dispenser within reach." Frank's cock did an involuntary twitch at the word "ejaculate" but he managed to keep his little guy in line as Erika flipped the switch on her Ryobi trimmer. With his hard-on quivered inches from her face, she shaved off his pubic hair with a deftness only experience and good tools can provide. The task was completed in less than a minute. While she worked on him, he couldn't help but think of Penny, standing there naked letting the hippie dude shave her clean. Would she be enjoying it too? Would her little clit be bursting with desire, poking its shiny head up out of its protective pink folds? Would the granola dude accidentally touch it a few times, making his wife's knees buckle and her heart race? Was thinking about Penny making him jealous? He shook his head, banishing the image from his mind. After all, he had Erika's fingers fluttering lovingly over his cock and balls. Why not just enjoy the moment? "Aftershave," Erika said, using a pump spray bottle to apply the soothing, tingly solution to his newly-naked skin. "Thanks," he croaked as she handed him the robe. Pulling it on, he followed her through another door, trying to calm his nerves by concentrating on bounce of her ass. He had to admit, Erika's peachy ass was right up there with Penny's ripe tits in the perfection department. He wondered what it was that made Swedish women's asses so firm. Skiing? Rounding the corner, they entered a dimly-lit room lined with shiny chrome panels. There was a drain in the center of the tile floor, a large stainless steel sink, and an elaborate bucket seat similar to what a NASCAR driver would use. There were various pneumatic tubes and apparatuses dangling from overhead, and what appeared to be medical monitoring equipment with digital readouts and touch screens surrounding the staging area. Erika hung her touch screen on a hook and poised her fingers over an old-fashioned QWERTY keyboard. She looked up at him. "A couple of quick questions before we get started. Music preference?" "Good music? You know, before the artificial intelligence generators came out?" Frank felt strongly about his taste in music. Although he was a firm believer in technology, the new "tonal clusters" they were synthesizing these days were so homogenized and bland, it drove him up the wall. Erika gave him a knowing glance. "Norah Jones?" "That'll work," Frank smiled, impressed with Erika's knowledge of classic pop stars from the previous decade. She continued with her spiel. "As for the personalities portrayed in the simulation, we have three categories: current celebrities, celebrities from the past, and fantasy women, who are computer generated composites of the most beautiful women in history." Frank pondered for a moment. Helen of Troy? Nefertiti? Marie Antoinette? Preferring to go with a known entity, he asked, "Who do you have in celebrities from the past?" "At this time, we only have three girls who are one-hundred percent functional, but there will be literally dozens by the time we go to market. Your choices would be Jessica Alba, Pam Anderson, and Halle Barry." "No Xena?" "I'm sorry Frank. We do not yet have a simulation for Lucy Lawless, but she's on the list. In fact, her daughter is coming in next week for preliminary testing, since, obviously, Lucy Lawless herself is much too old to give us good data for a model composite." "So I'm not the only Xena fan, eh?" "We get many requests for Xena, but mostly from our female subjects." She gave him a quizzical look. "So, out of the three available choices, who would you like to start with?" "That's easy," Frank laughed. "I'll take Jessica Alba." The Browning of America "Of course," she smiled. "Jessica is our most popular girl. Now, for the pubic area, there are three choices, which, of course, can be changed during the simulation. Would you like exfoliated, crew cut, or natural?" "What the hell. I'm exfoliated, you're exfoliated, let's go with that." "I think you'll find it quite enjoyable. Now, although the vagina modeling is specific to the celebrity, you can customize it to your liking. The extra options are: barely legal virgin, hip hop ho, and MILF." "I'll go with what the celebrities were born with, just for curiosity's sake." "There are also options for the odor module. You may choose: vanilla, butterscotch, natural, and hippie chick, which also doubles as morning after." "Well, I'm sort of used to vanilla, but natural might be fun." "Again, a good choice. I think it makes it much more realistic if you allow the celebrity to share her intimacy with you in an honest and un-enhanced fashion. You can always request changes later." She got up from her keyboard and draped a long white towel across the black leather padded bucket seat. "Over here please." She flashed him a hint of a grin, which caused an involuntary twitch of his cock. He strode over to the seat and stood there, wondering what to do next. "Hand me your robe please." Erika said, her nipples suddenly poking at her skintight outfit. He complied, feeling a little vulnerable and exposed. His dick had receded a bit, but it was still sticking out, giving him the appearance of a porn star waiting for his next money shot. He climbed into the seat, and Erika hit a couple of buttons adjusting the lumbar support to accommodate his lanky frame. "Comfy?" she asked. "I guess," he said, settling into the plush upholstery. "Put these gloves on." She handed him what appeared to be surgical gloves, except they had little metallic pads on the fingertips. As soon as he had them snugged up she started fitting the virtual reality helmet onto his head. It consisted of a wraparound screened visor, headphones, and a headband assembly. "How's that?" she asked, after making several minor adjustments. "Good," he sighed, already mesmerized by the ocean scene playing on the screen. Erika returned to her keyboard, punched in a code, and Norah Jones appeared, singing Don't Know Why I Didn't Come in luscious surround sound. But it wasn't the music video that used to play on VH1, it was Norah Jones up close and personal, wearing a little silk robe open in the middle. As she strolled on the beach, the robe flitted open, revealing her bare tan tummy and glimpses of her apple-breasts. Frank was vaguely aware of Erika's hands on his body, attaching the electronic monitoring patches to his chest, strapping his right ankle to the chair frame. Then her voice came in, softly, through the earphones, overriding the music. "I'm putting an I.V. in your foot, Frank. It's a fluid solution to combat dehydration and fortify your sexual response." He felt the sting of the needle, but he didn't care, because by this time Norah was naked, standing on a shoreline, the wind buffeting her dark hair, since she was not exfoliated. While Erika fiddled with her equipment, Norah proceeded to the next song, where she was crawling around on a bed, her naked tits dangling, her voice enveloping him in an erotic cocoon. Suddenly, he felt delicate fingers lifting his heavy cock. A smooth sheath descended upon his shaft, with a squishy tentacle worming it's way up under his balls and into the crack of his ass. "Is that comfortable, Frank?" Erika's voice came through the headphones. "Yeah," he gasped, wondering who else was watching this sordid, but enjoyable adventure. Erika's voice come on the headphones again. "Frank. There's a stop button on the back of your VR helmet, which you can easily reach with either hand, but in the three months that we've been running these tests, no one has ever stopped the simulation." "I can see why," Frank chuckled, watching Norah's ample ass swaying to the beat of her music. As the music faded out, another song faded in. It was one of those new artificially generated tone clusters - pleasant, but annoyingly lifeless. But that didn't matter, because with the music came the image of Jessica Alba. "Hi Frank," Jessica said in a cheerful voice. "I've been looking forward to this all day." The image of Jessica Alba panned down to reveal her black kimono, open in the middle much like Norah's was. "Do you like my outfit? I got it at Banana Republic." She gave him a cheerful smile and then continued her spiel. "Would you like to start with a blowjob, or do you want to feel my tits?" "What?" Frank gasped, totally taken aback by the reality of the simulation. The question was repeated. "Would you like to start with a blowjob, or do you want to feel my tits?" "Shit!" he mumbled, trying to make up his mind. "Shit? Would you like me to shit in the toilet, on the rug, or on your body? I'm not authorized to shit on your face, but that could be purchased as an extra option." "What the fuck?" "You want me to fuck what? Could you be more specific?" "Jesus Christ." "I'm sorry Frank. Jesus Christ is not yet in my fuck-buddy database, but for an extra charge, Jesus Christ can be added as an option. Could you make another selection please?" Jessica's cheerful grin froze, and Erika's soothing voice came on the headphones. "She responds to voice commands, Frank. As you can see, it's easy to get off track. Would you like me to restart the simulation?" "That would be good," Frank said, feeling a little overwhelmed. The scene returned to the beginning, and Jessica greeted him once more. "Hi Frank. I've been looking forward to this all day. Do you like my outfit? I got it at Banana Republic." She paused again, only this time, a Gatorade bottle appeared in her hand. "Thirsty," she said, batting her eyes. "My favorite flavor is Focus. It makes me feel frisky." With that she took a long gulp, letting the orange liquid dribble down her chin. Jesus Christ, Frank thought to himself. Product placement in a sex simulator? Jessica locked eyes with him again, her Gatorade bottle suddenly gone. "Would you like to start with a blowjob, or do you want to feel my tits?" "Tits." Frank blurted. He'd always been a tit man, and Jessica's were the epitome of perfect tits, at least before she embraced motherhood. "Here are my tits Frank. I've been saving them just for you." She opened her Kimono, and her tits fell out, filling the screen with their perfectly proportioned symmetry. Frank reached into mid air, and, through the magic of hologram technology and his light-sensitive gloves, his hands found a pair of breasts, soft and pliable, just like the real thing. "What the...?" he blurted. "These aren't your tits. These are Erica's tits. This is a trick, isn't it?" Instantly, the tits on the screen changed, and the ones in his hands changed too, becoming heavier and fuller, with large puffy nipples. "Do you like my tits, Frank?" It was Erika's voice, but it wasn't her live voice overriding the music, it was the voice coming out of the VR program. The camera panned back up, and there was Erika's face, with her luscious breasts hanging out of her blue skintight outfit. "Do you want to suck my nipples, Frank?" "Of course," he stammered, "but can I have Jessica back afterwards?" Instantly, Erika was gone and Jessica appeared, but this time she was looking over her shoulder at him. "Do you like my ass, Frank? Do you want to fuck me in the ass? Is that why you asked for my back?" "Oh fuck!" Frank moaned. suddenly realizing that the tit in his hand had turned into Jessica Alba's smooth firm back. "I want Erika's tits." Instantly, Erika returned, her soothing voice reassuring him. "Do you want to suck my nipples, Frank?" "Yes," he moaned, feeling the heavy breasts in his hands descending upon him, until a rubbery nipple nudged his mouth open. "Bite," Erika commanded. "Bite hard." He did, and a series of moans surrounded him. "That's perfect Frank. Do you want to fuck me now? If you fuck me while you're biting my nipples, I can cum. Would you like that?" "Yeah," he warbled, with the rubber nipple still in his mouth. Then the VR scene panned out to show Erika mounting him, her mushy tit still dangling in his mouth. As she lowered herself onto him, he could feel her warm, wet pussy engulfing his cock. "Oh God Erika. That's perfect." "Fast or slow?" she asked. "You tell me." "Fast or slow," she asked again. "Shit." "Shit? Shall I shit when I cum, or would you like to stop fucking so I can shit now?" A moment later, Erika's real voice came through the headphones. "Sorry about that. Do you want Jessica back?" "I want you back." "That's very sweet Frank, but my prototype hasn't been fully coded yet. I won't be totally operational until we release the product." "That's too bad," Frank said, wondering where the tit in his mouth had disappeared to. "Are you coded for straight sex?" "Yes. Straight sex, blowjobs, and masturbation." "Cool. So if we have straight sex, can I return to Jessica afterwards?" "Of course, Frank. That's what your IV is for. It's replenishing your seminal fluid. You'll be able to ejaculate approximately once every five minutes." "Holy crap," he gasped. Then, realizing he'd used the wrong word command, "Sorry." "It's okay Frank. We're still on pause." A moment later, her image reanimated, but this time she was straddling him, her tits dangling, her cunt grinding against his pelvic bone. "Tell me when you're ready, Frank," she said in her sultry animatron voice. "Faster," he gasped, suddenly engulfed by the smell of pussy. The simulation sped up, the cock-sheath plunging up and down on his stiffy, and Frank was having the best fuck of his life. As Erika's simulation found his rhythm, he could tell he was right on the verge. "Now, Erika, now!" As the semen erupted from his cock, he felt a second flood of wetness which could only have been Erika's girl-cum dripping down onto his balls. "Yah! I come now," Erika's voice gasped, reverting to a full blown Swedish accent. As her orgasm started, the cock-sheath took on a whole new rhythm, jerking spasmodically, clenching and unclenching his stinging dick. The voice continued over and over again: "Yah baby that's perfect. Do you like that? Yah baby that's perfect. Do you like that?" "Yes I like it!" he said in exasperation. "Do you want me to suck your cock clean?" Erika asked sweetly, still humping him in a slow deliberate motion. "I like the taste of my girl-cum. It makes me want to masturbate. Do you want to watch me masturbate?" "Sure Hon, but can we do that later? I'd like to see Jessica now, if that's okay." "Bye now," Erika said pleasantly, and then Jessica Alba was back on the screen. "Hi Frank. I've been looking forward to this all day. Do you like my outfit? I got it at Banana Republic. Would you like to start with a blowjob, or do you want to feel my tits?" "I want to watch you do a dolphin." "Let me check. Yes Frank, I do have a dolphin in my fuck-buddy database. Would you like me to be naked, or shall I wear the yellow Jantzen bikini from my TV show?" "Can you start with the bikini, but take it off during foreplay?" "Yes Frank. I can do whatever you desire. Would you like to walk behind me while we proceed to the dolphin pool? I can cinch up my bikini to show my ass cheeks." "That would be cool," Frank sighed, marveling at Jessica Alba's bouncy ass as she sashayed down the walkway. ***** The control room was centered between the two test pods. One-way windows afforded the handful of researchers an unhindered view of the naked participants. They also had four video feeds from each test subject, as well as data readouts for vital signs, brainwave function, and hydration levels. "Gorgeous snatch, eh?" said the trainee monitoring Penny's readouts. "Yeah. I'd hit that in a heartbeat," replied his counterpart, his eyes glued to a four-way split screen monitor. "And those tits? I haven't seen tits that perfect since high school." "Lucky fucker. Old Frankie here not only gets to fuck Erika, and Jessica, and whoever else he chooses, he also gets to go home with that hot bitch. What's her name? Penny? How many orgasms has she had so far, anyway?" "Four," an oriental dude answered. "No wait, make that five." "Is she still on Brad Pitt?" "Of course. They're always on Brad Pitt." "Well no wonder she keeps cumming and cumming and cumming." "I love the way she bounces and quivers when she cums. And the mess she's making? It looks like she's pissed herself at least three times, and we're only ten minutes in." "Now people," a white-haired gentleman interrupted, "we're not here to ridicule our subjects, we're here doing research. It is imperative that we respect our volunteers." "Whatever." "How's Frank doing?" "He's watching Jessica do the dolphin." "You mean he's watching Jessica do the guy in the dolphin suit." "That is so lame. It's just a sex simulator. Why couldn't they simulate a real dolphin? "Budget constraints, my man. Why pay a hundred-grand for a computerized dolphin simulation when you can hire some loser from Manpower for a hundred bucks and have him climb into a rubber dolphin costume with a plastic dick sticking out." "If I was that Manpower dude I would have used my own dick." "Yeah but then Jessica would have had to bring her tweezers and magnifying glass to find it." "Screw you." "People! Can we please get back on task?" "Dude!" the oriental guy barked, "I think we've got a biofeedback loop. Penny can't stop cumming, and the override switch doesn't do a damn thing." "What the fuck?" "Haven't we seen this before? Remember that squirting MILF who was in here last week?" "I was off last week." "Well, this girl is off nonstop. If she's perpetuating a biofeedback loop, we need to make sure it doesn't go logarithmic. The last thing we need now is an overload corrupting a string in our data bank." "Haven't you heard of scrubbing?" "What, you mean the way that didlo's scrubbing her vagina walls down to nothing?" "No, ass wipe, data scrubbing. Everybody does it. How do you think Rush Limbaugh won his senate seat?" The white haired gentleman, momentarily oblivious to the chatter, stared intently at his date readouts. "I say we give her ten more minutes. She's young. She can handle it." "Dude, she's crying." "They always start crying after their second orgasm." "Not the MILF. She was laughing the whole time. But she was doing Ashton Kutcher." "Do we have any data on the pain receptors? "They're registering pleasure, but you know how reliable those cheap Chinese chips are." "Fuck the sensors. Why don't we just stop the simulation and ask her?" "Hello? The override is jammed, and if we shut down the simulation we lose a billable hour." "I can't watch this. I'm going for donuts." "I think none of this would be happening if we were on a Mac. Why are we still on Windows, anyway?" "Because the Gates Foundation is one of our underwriters?" "What does the Gates Foundation have to do with sex research?" "Well, for one, it allows Bill Gates to tap into our servers, so while his wife is out saving orphans in Nigeria, he can sit around in his den and watch naked women having multiple orgasms all day. And two, he's holding some of the VR patents, so if this disaster of a project ever gets off the ground, he'll have even more money to piss away." "I think if we want to keep this disaster of a project from turning into a lawsuit we need to double up on Penny's lube." "No shit Sherlock." Into the intercom: "Connor! Double up on lube!" "And tell him to hang a bag of saline. Have you seen the floor out there? She's probably lost a liter of liquid already, and we're just getting started." "Has anyone checked the ass-cam? Who's got the ass-cam today?" "Not me. I had the ass-cam yesterday." "Screw it. I'll bring up the goddamn ass-cam...Shit!" "We have a genius in the room, and he has discovered shit on the ass-cam!" "It's not that. It's the goddamned ass-plug." Into the intercom: "Conner! Disconnect the ass-plug. Now!" Turning the intercom off: "Fuck! The ass-plug's been set on 'gay male' the whole time. She's never going to shit the same again." "And you know this how? Is it something you've learned through experience?" "Shut up, dingleberry!" "Queer!" "People! Please! Can we just concentrate on our assignments? Has anyone checked the artificial intelligence module? Perhaps it's taken a liking to our test subject." "Good idea boss." "That's why he's the boss, and you're the ass-cam man." "Fuck you." "Orgasm number six approaching...and...we have lift off." "I love this part. Look at those tits jiggle. Shit! I want to marry that bitch." "She's already married, bozo." "Yeah, but if she married me, I could bring her down here after hours and keep her walking bowlegged for the rest of her life." "Who would want a bowlegged wife? I mean, besides some cowboy from Arizona?" "I think he wants a bowlegged wife because it'll remind him of his bowlegged mom." "People! Please! I swear, this is worse than teaching a high school science class." "I wonder if the nipple clamps are too tight?" "I wonder if your ass is too tight, and that's why the ass-probe makes you cry?" "Fuck you." Into the intercom: "Conner! What's the problem with the ass-probe?" From Connor: "I need a vice grip. The bolt's stripped." "I'll bring it," Doug exclaimed, jumping up from his station. "Watch. I'll bet he also brings her a wedding ring." "Doug, while you're out there, check the nipple clamps?" "You got it." "Doug, here's a paper cup." "Why do I need a paper cup, fuckwad?" "So you can take her girl-cum home with you and spread it all over your face while you jack off." "Fuck you." "Is Doug the one who's been taking the cock-sheath home?" "No, but your mom keeps asking me about borrowing the ass-plug...for you!" "Doug. Cut the shit and go give Connor the vice grips. And put her on a pheno drip. At this point, it might be wise to block unpleasant responses so we don't get our asses sued." "Yes Sir." ***** "Erika?" Frank moaned in exasperation. "Yes Frank, would you like a blow job, or would you like to feel my tits?" "No not you, I mean the real Erika." "Yes Frank" through the headphone override, "I'm here. Are you alright? Do you need something?" "Can you turn off the simulation?" "I'm not supposed to, but if there's some sort of problem..." "There is a problem. The problem is, there's no cuddle response." "Cuddle response? Very interesting. We have that programmed into the Adam module, but the Eve module doesn't implement that feature." "Well, could you tell the simulation to have you blow me, and then could you come over here and cuddle while I cum?" "Um...I don't think that's part of the protocol. Let me check." Frank waited. A moment later, Erika appeared on the screen. "Would you like a blowjob?" Thinking he could trick the simulation into something more personal, he tried a new command. "Sixty-nine." "Would you like sixty-nine blowjobs?" "Shit!" "Would you like me to shit in the toilet, on the rug, or on your body?" "Erika! Dammit! Shut this stupid contraption off!" "Frank! Calm down. I'm right here." Frank sighed, feeling Erika's feather-light touch caressing his chest. He reached for her hand, and suddenly his fingers were intertwined with hers. "Better?" she asked softly. "Better," he said, catching his breath. "Can we just take a little break? This is too intense for me." The Browning of America "I'm sorry Frank. Once you start the procedure, you have to finish it, otherwise the whole test is nulled, and the institute loses the billing for it." "What if I pay for the billing?" "You couldn't afford it Frank." "Oh," he mumbled, wishing he could just go home. "Um, Frank, we do have a tantric setting - you know, where you stay inside your partner but you don't move, willing your orgasm through metaphysical powers, rather than through physical stimulation." "Thank God! Dial it up, baby." Erika got up to leave, but Frank wouldn't let go of her hand. "Wait! Can you dial up the tantric setting and then come back and be with me? I really need some human contact here. This whole machine thing is freaking me out." "Of course Frank. I'll be right back." A few moments later, the program resumed, but the tantric setting wasn't tantric at all, it was just super slow motion. "Woooooooould yooooooooou liiiiiiiiiiiike aaaaaaaaaaa bloooooooooooow joooooooooooob?" "Straight sex," Frank responded, "You on top." It took Erika forever to climb on top of him, but once he was inside her, he was in heaven. He was even aware of her hands caressing his chest, and later, venturing down to his balls. He was surprised at how quickly he was ready to shoot, but he was able to stave it off for a couple more minutes, losing himself in the sensations of Erika's wet pussy and fluttering fingertips. When he finally did cum, the cum sensor triggered Erika's orgasm, but it was almost comical the way her moans of ecstasy morphed into low, growling dinosaur groans. "Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Ieeeeeeeeeeeee cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum nowwwwwwwwww!" "Me too," he grunted, feeling the seminal fluid flowing out of him like a river. "Was that better?" Erika asked when it was over. "That was great, babe, but I think you need to tell the programmers to work on that tantric setting." "I noticed that," she admitted. "I think, at this point, they're just slowing it down to something like one-tenth speed, but they are planning on consulting with some yoga woman to set up a real tantric simulation." "So, how much more time do I have to kill before I can get out of this freak show?" "Roughly fifteen minutes." "Shit!" "Now Frank! You've got to stop saying that." "Sorry." "You haven't tried Halle Barry's ass yet. It's roomy, and once you're inside her, we could slow her down and see what happens." "What about your ass in slow motion?" "I'm afraid they haven't programmed my ass yet. I'm supposed to do that next week, but I keep putting it off. They want us to do the clear liquid diet, you know, empty the colon so the sensors don't get all gummed up." "You mean Jessica Alba and Pam Anderson and Halle Barry all came down here and got sensors stuck up their asses and down their throats?" "Of course not. We use body doubles for that, but don't tell anyone, okay?" "Okay." "Alright Frank. Stand by for Halle Barry's ass. She likes being slapped, by the way." ***** Tension was rising in the control room as Doug jogged out to the testing pod to disable Penny's ass-plug. "Connor. Here's that vice grip. You want me to do it?" "Sure Doug. You can do it if you want." "How's she doing?" Doug asked, crouching under Penny's ass to detach the pink plunger. "Well, she's been crying for a half hour now, but we've hung a second bag of saline, so I don't think she'll dehydrate." Doug listened to her pitiful sobs as he worked with the stripped bolt. It seemed unconscionable to him that a human should have to endure such inhumane treatment, but he was powerless to stop it. He was, after all, just another cog in the wheel, and if he didn't mesh with the direction the wheel was going, he would simply be replaced. "Hot chick, huh?" Doug asked. "No shit! Did you get a whiff?" "Dude! Vanilla pudding. I should have brought that cup with me." "What cup?" "Never mind," Doug sighed, squatting by Penny's leaky butt. "Jesus, even her ass smells nice." "Dude, check it out." "Check what out?" "She's about to shoot again. Come on." Doug dropped his vice grip and went over to watch Penny's pussy explode. "Thar she blows," Connor announced, as a spray of cum erupted from Penny's pink folds. Doug stared down at the apparatus pummeling Penny's swollen cunt. The dildo was pneumatic, expanding to the optimum size dictated by the subject's vagina. The clit tickler was chosen by the attendant, who, while exfoliating the subject, would note her clitoral structure and check the chart for the matching attachment. It was scientific, it was perfect, and yet, it was cold and soulless, with no ability to perceive pleasure or pain beyond the cheap sensors and the brain-waves displayed on one of the computer screens. The inhumanity of it all was overwhelming to Doug. Sure, when he first started on the project, he thought he was saving the world, but Penny's choking sobs made him realize that sex was not strictly a scientific function, it was a metaphysical one, a bonding of souls, and, as yet, they hadn't figured out a way to program a soul into their modules. "Poor kid," Doug mumbled, "she had no idea what she was getting herself into." He grabbed a tissue from the dispenser and dabbed the tears off her cheeks, but it made no difference because they just kept coming. All he could think of was scooping the poor girl up in his arms and carrying her away, but he knew that would never happen. He got back down on his knees, working to get the stripped bolt free, but he had to wait for Penny's spasms to stop before removing the offending appendage. Then he remembered the nipple clamps. "Dude, they want less pressure on the tit clips." "Can do." "Can I do it?" "Doug. Are you falling for this one?" "No man, I just like her tits." Doug sprang to his feet again and dialed the pressure back on the pneumatic nipple clamps. A moment later an audible sigh emanated from Penny's parched lips. With a feeling of relief rushing through his body, Doug grabbed another kleenex to wipe her sweaty forehead. "I wonder if artificial intelligence was picking up 'harder, harder' and applying it to all the systems?" "Wouldn't be the first time," Connor said, eyeing the EKG. "Dude, you're supposed to report this stuff." "Dude, I like my job. I don't want to get fired." Doug returned to Penny's ass and pulled the plug, which elicited yet another groan of relief from the poor tortured girl. He turned to Connor "You know, I think this simulation is missing the whole point. Sex is supposed to be about sensitivity, not balls-to-the-wall sensations." "Try telling that to the brass. Where do you think all the ex-GM executives ended up? Here. The only thing they understand is 'bigger' and 'faster'. Try to tell them to think small and you'll be out on the street." "Whatever," Doug sighed, running his hand lightly up Penny's side. He let his fingertips linger along the edge of her breast, and she let out a quiet moan. He let his fingers trail up onto her collarbones, eliciting a pitiful whimper. He traced a line across her shoulders and down her arm. "Oh Brad," she croaked, in a dry, raspy voice, "I like that. I like it when you're gentle with me." From the intercom: "Doug! Get your ass back in the control room. Now!" Doug hung his head, giving Penny one last caress, and then plodded back to his station in the control room. "Dude!" the oriental dude complained, "What the fuck? First Erika gets all pussied out over Frankie, and then you go all ape shit over Penny. Are you trying to get us all fired?" "People, please," the old guy intoned. "No one's getting fired. This is part of the scientific process. We must identify flaws in the system and rectify them, not pretend they don't exist. We need to be able to individualize the simulation to cater to the particular subject being served, rather than the population at large." "You mean like, make it human?" "Well, I wouldn't want to go that far." "I didn't think so," Doug said. With a dramatic flourish, he grabbed the name tag dangling around his neck and flicked it onto the counter. Then he got up to leave. "Doug! You can't go! It's the middle of your shift. Who's going to man the ass-cam?" "Fuck you. I'm out of here. I'd rather pump gas and sling oxy-packs at the QuikMart than torture humans for Bill Gates. I don't need this shit, and my soul can't stomach it anymore." The entire control room fell silent as Doug stomped out. A moment later, Erika came on the intercom. "Excuse me. Could someone please fix Halle Barry's ass? Her sphincter just clamped down on Frankie's dick, and he's afraid she's going to pinch it off." "Oh crap, not that again." "Didn't Doug fix that last time?" "Doug!" the sliver-haired dude bellowed. "Somebody get Doug before he clears security." "What if he doesn't want to come back? He did seem pretty pissed." "Tell him he can consult on the artificial intelligence team. He's a bright kid. We need someone like him to humanize this simulation." Doug returned a moment later, a look of smug contentment plastered across his cherub face. "Everyone!" he announced, "watch and learn. Type: 'H B ass/undo'. Then hit 'enter'." The room erupted in a smattering of applause as Erika gave them the thumbs up. "Now," Doug asked, rubbing his dimpled chin, "how's the energizer bunny doing?" "Um...she appears to be going exponential." "Oh crap. What's the frequency?" "It's doubling. Four minutes, followed be around two minutes, followed by another one at :58, and she just popped again at :31 "Dammit!" Into the intercom: "Conner! Hit the kill switch! Now!" From Connor: "Fuck! The kill switch is dead. It doesn't do a damn thing." Doug dashed out into the test pod. "Connor! Disengage the tit clips and then hit the pneumatic seat release." As Penny's bucket seat wheezed towards the floor, Doug shoved a five gallon lube bucket under it so that her hips would remain level with the fuck machine. "Grab her," he barked, "one hand on her thigh, one hand under her ass. Hurry!" With one guy on each side, they held her aloft while Doug kicked the bucket out from under the chair. As it wheezed lower, he gave the command. "Now!" They heaved her backwards and the whirring dido popped out of her pussy with a slurp. As they plopped her back down into her chair, she sat bolt upright, clamping her hand onto her cunt. "Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow," she gasped, her face contorted in a grotesque mask of pain. "Shit! Is she alright?" Doug got down on his knees and pried Penny's hand free. He slid a finger up against her labia, but they were clamped shut. "She's cramping. We need to stretch her open." "Stop it Brad," she whimpered. "You're hurting me." Penny's voice was raw and hoarse, her arms pawing the air, her legs pinched together. Doug grabbed the slimy dildo, ripping it loose from the pulsing pneumatic arm, and jammed it into Penny's quivering cunt. "Oh Brad," she giggled, her legs opening wide. "That's nice." She eased back into her seat, her mouth hanging open, her breath coming in long, slow gasps. "Dude!" Connor bellowed, "you broke the phallus. What the fuck?" "Dude. She was in a biofeedback orgasm loop. I had no choice." "Dude! We're going to lose a billable hour!" "What are you talking about, asswipe? She's still hooked up. The machine's still running. Just let the simulation finish and no one will know the difference." Just then a spurt of white goo shot from the end of the pneumatic arm, splatting all over Penny's tummy." "Oh Brad," Penny giggle, "you're so nasty." She trailed her fingertips down into the puddle and then swirled the synthetic semen up onto her tits. "She's so fucking hot," Doug moaned, staring in disbelief as Penny sucked her dripping fingers into her mouth. "Whatever," Connor mumbled, checking his readout. "She's only got a couple of minutes to go." Satisfied that she was stabilized, Doug stood there watching as Penny slathered her body with Brad Pitt's fake semen. The sensuality of it, the purity of her desire, it was the antithesis of the simulation, and it was heartbreaking. Taking one last longing whiff of her pungent sex-scent, he padded back into the control room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Once again, he heard the smattering of applause, but he felt it was unearned. Anyone would have done the same thing. Well, anyone with a heart. No one had actually seen what an exponential biofeedback orgasm loop could do, and he wasn't willing to let it happen on his watch. In the computer model, it had lead to permanent paralysis of the kegel muscles, and that would have been totally unacceptable, even in a scientific study. He watched through the window as the pneumatic arm wheezed to a stop. As soon as Connor had removed her VR helmet, Penny didn't even bother with her robe, she just struggled to her feet and staggered towards the door, the sway of her perfect tits burned into Doug's mind forever. As the others in the control room went about finalizing their data and preparing for the next test run, Doug brought his slimy fingers to his face and inhaled deeply, rubbing Penny's juice into his nose and mouth. "Thank you Penny," he whispered, his breath fogging the one-way glass. ***** Bored with Jessica Alba's phony dolphin routine, Frank switched to Pam Anderson, who was immediately plugging the DVD boxed set of her VIP show. "For only $19.95..." He watched disinterestedly as Pam's humongous tits jiggled into view. It amazed him that at one time, Pam Anderson had been his favorite fantasy, but now, she was nothing but a tawdry memory from his younger days, a reminder that love was more important than the size of a woman's breasts. He had her climb on top, but his heart wasn't in it. As she rode him enthusiastically, all he could think about was how much milk one of her jugs could hold. A gallon? More than a gallon? "Five minutes Frank," came Erika's overriding voice in the headphones. He had just ejaculated, so he asked Erika to masturbate for him. Enthralled with her long legs high in the air, her large round tits vibrating on her chest as she worked herself over, he was hard in no time, and elected to cum in her mouth. "Do you want me to finger your asshole, Frank?" she asked, hovering over him, her tits dangling. "Sure," he gasped, feeling adventurous. The anal probe advanced, dribbling lube as it bored into him. "Oh God Erika. That's perfect!" After less than a minute of stroking, his load shot into her mouth, making a gagging gurgling sound as she took him deeper into her throat. "Oh yeah baby," he sputtered, "you got all those other girls beat by a mile." She just kept looking up at him, her mouth wringing every last drop of jizz out of his wilting cock. As her face faded out and the ocean scene faded back in, he heard Erika's voice coming from the real world, not his headphones. "Hey sport," she whispered as she pulled the VR helmet off his head. "You doing okay?" Frank looked around, all bleary-eyed. "I guess so." He watched sleepily as Erika pulled the pneumatic sheath off his slimy cock and replaced it with a warm, wet towel. "A little sore?" she asked, as she swabbed daintily at his rubbery dick. "No shit." "There's that word again." "Sorry," he laughed, trying valiantly to sit up. She grabbed him and helped him to his feet. "You did good, Frank." "I feel like I've been run over by a truck." "No, you were run over by Halle Barry's ass." "And your mouth." "Frank!" she giggled. "That wasn't real, so don't make a big deal out of it." "Sorry," he sighed, watching her heavy tits straining at her top as she marched him towards the door. They reached the locker room and she gave him a little shove. "It was fun meeting you Frank." "Likewise. Nice tits, and I love your smell." "Shut up," she giggled, giving him a gentle slap on the arm. Then she turned and headed back into the testing lab. Frank wandered into the locker room, jumped into the shower for a minute, and then climbed into his clothes, feeling heartsick and confused. Although he hadn't actually had real sex with Erika, he had definitely shared a sexual experience with her, and it was troubling. Not troubling enough to keep him from enjoying it though. He was just tying his shoes when one of the crew from the front office returned to lead him back to the reception area. He slogged down the hall, listening to the sales pitch. "We're going to have spas all over the country, and if you sign up now, you'll get the charter member rate." "Can you just leave me a brochure? I need to talk to my wife about this." "The charter membership offer is only available within twenty-four hours of your test date. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity sir. You can even reserve Erika as your personal assistant, since demand will undoubtedly make her unavailable unless you're on her VIP list." "Thanks," Frank sighed, already losing interest in Erika's intimate charms. She was nice, but she didn't compare to Penny, who, in spite of their political differences, was the woman he was meant to be with. Trudging down the long hall, he couldn't help but wonder who his wife had chosen for her simulated sexual partners. And he couldn't help but wonder if she had enjoyed it as much as he had, at least initially. There was a lot to think about, but he was confident he and Penny could work it all out eventually. As he staggered into the front office, he spotted his sweet wife, slumped in a chair with a sheepish grin on her face. "Hey baby," she grinned, cocking her head in that lovable way that hooked him all those years ago. "Hey," he smiled, taking her hand. They sauntered out into the sunlight, hefting their breathing canisters back on and slathering their exposed skin with radiation-block. "Well? How was it?" she asked, a hint of apprehension in her voice. "Oh God," he sighed, "it was brutal. My dick got caught in Halle Barry's ass." "Halle Barry? That was broadminded of you." "I started with Jessica Alba." "You perv!" she giggled. "I got Brad Pitt, but he was too rough for me, at least until the very end." "Yeah, I don't think mechanical sex is where it's at. I think I'd rather just be with you, honey." "Oh, you're so sweet." She cuddled up to him, and it was as if they were back on their honeymoon, all those years ago. "Babe?" Frank said, nuzzling her neck. 
"What is it Honey?" "I was just thinking, after vacation's over and we get back home, do you want to move to Canada? "Why Canada?" she said, stopping in her tracks. "I've had it with the mechanization of America. The escalator. The oxy-packs. The radiation block. We've completely lost touch with Mother Nature." "This? Coming from mister technophobe? What made you change you mind?" Frank sighed, scuffing his shoe in the dirt. "It just seems like we could be living a more meaningful life if we quit letting technology make all our choices for us." "That works for me," Penny grinned. "What are we going to do in Canada?" "I don't know, build a cabin in the woods, make love out on a lake, play the banjo on the front porch." "I'm with you on everything except the banjo." "Cool" Frank sighed, pulling her closer. Surrendering to the magic of the moment, he continued: "So honey, I wasn't going to tell you, but while you were in the gift shop earlier, some Indian dude came up to me and said for $100 he'd lead us to an abandoned trail that goes clear down to the bottom of the canyon." "Frank!" she blurted, tears welling up, "You'd actually bypass the escalator and hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon with me?" "Of course I would," he said bravely, realizing that, for the first time in his life, he was ready to accept Mother Nature - and his wife, without trying to change either one of them.